The Janus Order
by chubby redburn
Summary: AU. OOC. Harry Potter was raised by his Aunt and Uncle, His father's twin sister Jane and her husband Sirius Black, on a ranch in Alberta, Canada. His destiny, however, can not be denied. HPHG shipper (Completed)
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction based on the characters and plots devised by J. K. Rowling. Ownership of said characters and plots remain the property of Miss Rowling and her publishers.

The Janus Order

Chapter One

The Angus cattle spread slowly out across the pasture that the cowboys had herded them to. Sniffing the gentle breeze that came off of the mountains that rose to the west, the old lead bull looked out across the meadow. He had been coming here for nine summers. He knew the place well and the many years of peace that he had experienced in the tall grass relaxed him. He fell to eating grass. The rest of the herd followed his example although a few drifted over to the stream that meandered more or less eastward.

Geoff Kelly, a tall, lean man with bright blue eyes that were set deep in a tanned and profoundly lined face, had been a cattleman most of his sixty-one years and foreman of the _Flying B_ ranch for the past ten. He wore stout denim pants, a faded blue long sleeve cotton shirt, and highly scuffed books of brown leather. The only thing new he wore was a black cowboy hat with a silver band, a birthday gift from his wife of twenty seven years. The hat effectively hid his bald head.

He caught sight the owner of the _Flying B_'snine year old son with his ten year old cousin. They along with the boss had helped drive the herd to the midsummer grazing land. However an urgent cell phone call had sent Mr. Black scurrying back to the main house an hour earlier.

The older boy didn't talk enough to fill a matchbook but he listened and didn't forget what he heard. Not one to let others work while he sat around, the kid had been helping with the cattle from the time he could get his legs across a pony. Kelly figured the kid knew at least as much about the cattle business as his aunt and uncle and a far sight more the most of the hands. He was pointing out something to his cousin, James Remus whom everyone called J. R. J.R. was beginning to learn about a ranch that would be his some day. Kelly thought that if he followed his cousin's example, he would be a solid man to work for in ten or so years.

Both boys were dressed in identical crimson shirts and black jeans but where J.R. wore a black cowboy hat where his cousin favored a simple red _Calgary Stampeders_ ball cap. J.R. was a lanky kid who would probably grow up to be one of those tall men that can never seem to pack on weight. His cousin was slightly shorter despite being nearly two years older but had a stockier build. Green eyes looked out through wire rimmed glasses from a face framed by thick black hair that stopped just short of his shoulders. The long hair was the only thing that Kelly didn't like about the kid.

"What do you think, Harry?" Kelly asked as he rode his roan over to the pair of boys.

Harry, astride a gray appaloosa gelding, rubbed the scar on his forehead as his eyes slowly scanned the vast pasture. "Grass is thicker then I expected. With some good rains we might be able to keep the herd right here the rest of the summer and use the canyon pasture strictly for hay."

"Possible," Kelly mused. "More then possible."

"Did Dad tell you why he had to go back to the house, Mr. Kelly?" J.R. asked nervously as he patted his pinto's neck.

Kelly shook his head but a reassuring smile pushed up the corners of his mouth. "No, he didn't but if your Momma or one of your sisters had been sick or hurt, he would have said something."

"He left in an awful hurry," J.R. said.

Kelly's laugh was a low rumble that barely could be heard. "Well, Boy-o, when you are grown and married, you'll find it prudent to heed your wife if she calls you at work and asks you to come to the house. Saves a man a lot of grief."

Harry, seeing that his worried cousin wasn't fully convinced, set out to keep him occupied. "C'mon, J.R., we need to check the fence out."

J.R. frowned. "I thought that some of the hands were up here a couple a weeks ago repairing the fence. You were with them, weren't you?"

"Yes but as you said that was two weeks ago."

"You two do that," Kelly said. "If you find nothing wrong then head on back down to the house. Just keep an eye out for cougars."

The foreman watched as the two boys rode off. He respected the owners of the _Flying B_ but had never warmed up to the two British émigrés who had shown up ten years ago with their daughter and young Harry in their arms but Harry had grown up Canadian and western Canadian at that and J.R. was born was raised in Alberta. Kelly was as fond of the two of them as if they were of his blood.

With the small smile still lingering on his lips, he turned his horse and rode to rejoin the rest of the hands.

The fence line proved to be intact so with a wave to the hands, Harry and J.R. set out for the main house. They wound their way down the mountainside through the dappled shadows of the trees. The calendar said that it was high summer but the temperatures remain cool. Away from the massed cows, the sweet fragrances of the Rockies Mountains could be noticed and enjoyed.

Eventually they reached the lower pastures where the herd had cropped the grass short. In the distance, the main house rose like a lone castle of yore. It was two stories made of field stone and natural colored timber. Light poured out into the increasing dusk from gabled windows. A porch wrapped itself completely around the ground floor. In deference to the long hard winters the roof was sharply pitched.

"I hope something good's for supper," J.R. said as they released the horses into the corral. "I'm about half starved."

Harry tossed his saddle onto the top rail of the corral fence. "Ever known something bad served for supper?"

"No, not for supper," his cousin answered. "But sometimes when Lindsey attempts to make lunch."

"Your right about that," Harry chuckled. "But she's getting better."

As if talking about her had summoned her to them, Lindsey came running out of the house. Like her younger brother, she was tall and lanky but otherwise looked like Harry. Since they shared the same birthday, people often though that they were twins instead of cousins. She wore her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail

"You two hurry up and bathe," she commanded as she skidded to a halt beside of them. "We have guests from England."

"Who?" J.R. asked. "Is that why mom called dad back to the house? Why are they here?"

Lindsey grinned at her brother. "One at a time, please. First, I don't know their names. I think that they are from mom and dad's old school in Britain. One of them looks like a skinny Santa Claus. If his beard gets any longer, he could probably get away with not wearing pants. There is an older woman and a younger man with him."

"As to why, they're here," she continued. "It has something to do with you, Harry."

"Oh?"

"I could have stuck around and learned everything as loud as everyone was arguing," Lindsey said. "But mom and dad were in fine form so I took Bess and Terry down to the pond to play. They don't need to learn those sorts of words yet. They're only five, after all."

Harry nodded his understanding. His aunt and uncle were masters of creative profanity. When either got riled it was a performance to behold; when both were angry, it was a force of nature. Being persons of high passions, their explosions were frequent. Strangers often thought that they were constantly on the edge of divorce. Their kids and nephew knew only death would separate them.

"Like I said, I don't know who they are exactly," Lindsay reiterated. "But to come into mom's house and make her mad, they're either the dumbest sons of bitches that ever walked upright or they got bigger balls then a buffalo."

Harry briefly wondered if Lindsey guarded her tongue around her younger sisters better then she did around him. Pushing any curiosity aside, Harry went up to his room to shower and change. He liked his horses but could do without smelling like them.

Harry pawed through his closet. In light of guests in the house, he chose a pair of navy blue slacks and a light gray shirt. He pulled on the jacket that went with the slacks but decided to forgo a tie. He made sure his still slightly damp hair was neatly brushed before heading for the dining room.

He met his uncle halfway down the stairs.

"I was just coming to get you, Harry," His Uncle Sirius said as he approvingly looked over Harry's ensemble. "You inherited your father's sense of style. He was always a blade."

"Thanks," Harry said as they both went down the stairs. "Anything I should know before I go in there?"

A dozen different emotions flashed across Sirius's face. Finally he said, "You've probably just had your last day as a child, Harry."

Harry was used to his uncle's overly dramatic language so he merely shrugged. "At least it was a good one."

Sirius roared with laughter and drew Harry into a rough hug. "Come on, let's eat."

The table was nearly full. Harry's four cousins were already seated along one side. His Aunt Jane, twin sister to his late father, was seated at the far end. Sirius took the chair at the near end of the table leaving Harry to sit amongst the three strangers.

Lindsey was right. The older man did remained one of a thin Santa Claus. He had merry eyes that twinkled as they peered over half moon glasses. The younger man was one of those dark sorts that appeared to be greasy at all times. His hard black eyes barely glanced at Harry before looking away. The woman was obviously an older woman but her hair remained dark. Harry had the impression that it was naturally so although it didn't seem probable. All three radiated the self confidence that comes from intelligence and power.

"Harry," Aunt Jane began. "These are Professors Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape. Professor Dumbledore is the Headmaster at Hogwarts. Professors McGonagall and Snape are teachers there."

"I am pleased to meet you," Harry said politely.

The three teachers replied to him in kind but before anything else was said, Aunt Jane spoke up.

"There are no house elves here," she said. "If it catches your eye, grab it."

The message was clear. Nothing was going to be said at the table as to why the three professors had traveled a third of the way around the world to a remote cattle ranch in rural Alberta. Harry accepted this easily enough figuring that explanations would be offered eventually. Lindsey was content to wait also but J. R. looked as if he was going to burst yet, he too, kept quiet save for the expected small talk.

Supper took no longer then usual but the suppressed emotions that Harry felt on all sides of him made the minutes drag on by. Finally, it was over and the table was being cleared.

"Lindsey, please see that your sisters brush their teeth and then get them to bed," Aunt Jane ordered. "J. R., I know that it isn't your turn at he dishes but we need Harry in the den."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered unenthusiastically. "Am I bunking down with Harry, tonight?"

Aunt Jane laughed to herself. "Yes, thanks for reminding me," she said as she squeezed his shoulder affectionately. "Be sure to take what you're going to wear tomorrow from your closet tonight."

Sirius sighed deeply. "Let's go, Harry. Into the breach with us."

Dumbledore chuckled. "You're going to have the boy prejudiced against us before we get out of the room."

"Sirius," Jane warned as her husband opened his mouth to reply. He snapped his mouth shut and led Harry to the den.

Everyone spread out among the couches and leather chairs of the den. Sirius sat behind the desk where most of the ranch business has transacted.

"Where do we start?" He asked.

"We start with the truth," his wife replied.

She sat down beside Harry and drew him into a quick but fierce hug. She gently stroked her nephew's cheek once.

"I had a brother that I would have died for," she began looking into Harry's eyes. "He married a woman I was so overjoyed to call sister. They are both gone and all I have of them is you, Harry. As I loved them, I love their son."

"You know how they died and you know that the monster also tried to kill you," she continued. "What you don't know is that there was a prophecy."

"Jane," Dumbledore interrupted as he stood. "I don't think that…"

"I don't give a flying fuck what you think," Jane Black snapped, her eyes suddenly blazing. "I will not have you keep Harry in the dark."

Dumbledore sat back down, his eyes full of worry.

"Now, Harry," She said calmly as she turned back to her nephew. "The prophecy states that neither you nor Voldemort can truly live as long as the other one is alive. Dumbledore wants to take you to Hogwarts School and train you to kill Voldemort."

"That's misrepresenting our position, Jane," McGonagall said forcefully.

"Strip away the bullshit," Jane replied. "And that's precisely what you wish to do. Frankly if you fail to do so, Harry dies."

"Excuse me," Harry said. "I become a killer or be killed?"

"Harry, Dumbledore here sincerely believes that Voldemort will return," Sirius said. "He'll make the truth dance on the head of a pin but he won't lie. Your parents thought enough of him and his cause to follow him to their deaths and I don't mean that to be sarcastic. He wants to train you in hope that you can avoid your parent's fate."

"I'm confused," Harry admitted. "You two speak as if you don't like the professors but it sounds as if you want me to go with them back to Hogwarts."

"They aren't mutually exclusive positions," Sirius said.

"If I thought for a moment that Voldemort would never come after you," Jane added. "Every wizard in Britain could die at his hands and I would not bat an eye but he will come for you one day and I want you prepared."

Harry shook his head slowly. "This is too weird for words."

Sirius laughed mirthlessly. "You don't know the half of it."

"What else is there?" Harry asked.

"Well, for example," Sirius began. "Your father's greatest enemy other then Voldemort was Severus Snape here."

"Huh,"

"Oh, yes," Sirius said with mock gleefulness. "_Professor _Snape was a classmate of ours and he and your father loathed each other yet he is willing to teach you. Isn't that nice?"

"Please," Harry pleaded. "Don't get muddy the waters. This is too puzzling as is."

"Potter," Snape sighed. "Your uncle is right. Your father and I hated each other. I can only say that despite our differences we fought for the same thing. Your Aunt and Uncle will never believe so but it is the truth."

Harry slowly looked at the five adults in the room. Finally his eyes settled on his aunt.

"You want to go to this Hogwarts?" he asked.

Jane Black shook her head slowly. "No, I don't want you to go but I think that is for the best."

"So, how do I get there?"


	2. chapter 2

Disclaimer: I'm not J. K. Rowling so I don't own the plot or characters.

The Janus Order

Chapter 2

Harry, clothed in his formal black robe, waited until the last of the first years had passed the staircase behind which he was hiding. As quietly as possible he slid behind the pack. No one noticed that there was suddenly one more student then had disembarked from the boats.

He hadn't arrived by train but had been at Hogwarts for two months. He arrived in London via British Airways. Professor Snape met him at Heathrow and escorted Harry to Diagon Alley where they bought the recommended school supplies and a few odds and ends that the potions master said would come in handy during his studies. Harry's actual arrival to Hogwarts came by way of the floo network.

Most of July and August had been spent with Professor Dumbledore and a retired Auror named Alastor Moody learning Legilimency and Occlumency as well as about Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Dumbledore remained concerned about loading more on Harry then he could handle at such a young age but Moody had no such worries.

"You can't fight evil from a position of weakness or ignorance," he continuously said. "Constant Vigilance! Be prepared! Expect the unexpected!"

To ensure that Harry got some relaxation and exercise, Dumbledore also taught Harry the basics of riding a broomstick.

"It's not your horses, I know," he told Harry. "But they'll have to do."

"Can the thestrals be riddened," Harry had asked.

Dumbledore looked momentarily startled but he recovered quickly. "They can, young Harry, but let's stick with broomsticks for awhile, shall we."

"Well, they smell better anyway," Harry joked.

Much to Dumbledore's surprise and relief, Harry and Severus got along fairly well. Severus even had gone so far as to begin to teach Harry the fundamentals of potion brewing and the more common ingredients used in the art.

"He's a good egg," Snape said to Dumbledore and McGonagall during a lunch some three weeks after he had brought Harry to Hogwarts. "He's respectful, intelligent and grasps concepts and principles readily. How he could be Potter's son and been raised by Black yet turn out like he did is beyond me. I think maybe we ought to recruit more students from Canada."

"He's Lily's boy through and through," Minerva said sipping her tea. "Even if he is a mirror image of his father."

Professor McGonagall had left the first years alone in the antechamber. Most of them fell to whispering amongst themselves as to what awaited them. They were nervous, excited, and some were even a wee bit frightened. The bushy haired girl in front of Harry seemed more so the most by the way she kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other. After a few moments, Harry realized what ailed her.

"Girls Lavatory's that second door on the right," he said softly in her ear.

She was momentary torn between fear of having the professor return before she got back and the pressure of her bladder. The bladder won. Heads turned as she scampered away. When they realized where she was going, two other girls broke ranks and quickly followed her.

"Is there a _gents_?" one pleasant faced boy asked in an Irish lilt.

Harry pretended to looked around. "That first door there says _boys _on it." He said pointing to his right.

"Thank God," someone exclaimed as five boys rushed to it.

A tall, slender, blond boy, so pale that Harry wondered if he had ever been out in the sunlight, piped up from near the front of the group. "Are you an American? You talk funny."

"I'm from Canada,"

"What's the difference?" he smirked causing two large boys by him to laugh.

Harry ignored the slight about his adopted land. A lot of people had trouble accepting Canada as a sovereign nation state instead of some odd addendum to the United States. The fact that you could tuck two United Kingdoms into Alberta and still have room left over probably never occurred to the blond kid.

One by one, those who had left returned to the pack most of them looking somewhat less nervous. The bushy haired girl especially looked calm.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

Professor McGonagall chose that moment to return.

"Follow me," she commanded and lead the first years into the great hall.

Harry enjoyed the sorting ceremony. He tried to guess which house someone was going to be placed in by what little he observed of them. He was usually wrong. The ceremony was going smoothly until Professor McGonagall called out Harry's name. The fact that _The Boy Who Lived_ was reentering the everyday life of Magical Britain had been a closely guarded secret, unknown to anyone not in Dumbledore's inner circle. The hall exploded with conversation as everyone craned their necks to get a look at Harry.

Harry calmly sat down on the stool and awaited his fate. Dumbledore had told him that the selection of houses was entirely up to the hat which McGonagall lowered on to his head.

"Well, well, laddie," Harry heard the Hat's thoughts inside of his mind. "Where shall we put you?"

"Does it really matter?" Harry thought back at the Hat.

The Sorting Hat chuckled. "Between you, me, and the stool, kid, the only two differences is that one, you are more at ease with people of a similar nature and the other is who ends up on your Christmas card list twenty years after you graduate. In light of the reason that you are here, I going to place you in…."

"GRYFFINDOR"

Harry looked oddly at the Gryffindor table where pandemonium erupted. With a slight shake of his head, he left the dais and walked over to where the rest of his now housemates were.

"Good Grief," He thought as they swarmed over him. Professor Snape had warned him to expect this sort of reaction but Harry simply could not understand about being famous for something he couldn't even remember. He briefly wondered if the house elves were going to move his stuff from the unused teacher's apartment that he had been staying in to the Gryffindor dormitory before he gave himself to the crowd.


	3. chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction using the characters and plots created by J. K. Rowling. There are owned by her and her publishers.

The Janus Order

Chapter 3

Hermione searched through the library seeking Harry. In the two months since the beginning of the term Harry had spent so much of his free time in the library that he quickly acquired the reputation of being a drudge. Most of his fellow Gryffindors were fairly disappointed with him and felt vaguely cheated. Instead of a dashing hero, they wound up with a studious, introverted boy with an odd accent and a strange vocabulary. Harry was friendly enough; no snob he but really just didn't seem Gryffindor material after all.

Hermione, however, was grateful that Harry had been assigned to Gryffindor House. She had thought that Hogwarts would be a new start for her. Naively she had believed that young witches and wizards would be different from the muggles in primary school. She was sure that her intelligence, which had made her an outcast in muggle schools, would be appreciated at Hogwarts. She was wrong.

The taunts and slights she experienced for five years continued in her new environment. Surprising Hermione, the words used to ridicule her were even the same. The only difference was that she now had a friend in Harry Potter. Harry wasn't bothered in the least that Hermione was so intelligent. Hermione suspected that it was due in part to the fact that Harry had intelligent females in his own life. He had spoken of his cousin Lindsey who was now studying magic at the Cape Caution Magick Institute in British Columbia and who aspired to become a veterinarian. Hermione also knew that his Aunt Jane had been the Valedictorian of her graduating class at Hogwarts, the last Gryffindor to have that distinction.

The other reason, Hermione thought, was that Harry was probably as smart as she was even if he wouldn't volunteer any answers in class. In their study sessions, he seemed to keep pace with her without much effort.

She spotted Harry partially hidden in an out of the way nook. He was bent over a book. His face obscured by his hair hanging down as he jotted notes with his right hand. Hermione had a sudden urge to run her hands through that thick mane of black hair. The desire stunned her momentarily. She quickly chased it away and continued over to Harry.

"Hello," Hermione said too brightly as she tossed he book bag on to the table and sat down.

Her jaw tightened slightly as Harry unconsciously ran his left hand through his hair as he looked up. "Hello, Hermione," he replied with a smile. "What brings you here?"

"The fact that most of our classmates don't know that the library exists," Hermione said in an attempt at jocularity.

Harry heard the pain in her voice. He put his notes between the pages and closed his book. He took her hand and waited for her to continue. She shook her head and smiled.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione said. "But I'm not going to unload on you."

Harry waited.

"It's just that I can't understand why everyone dislikes me," She said. "They have the same books as I do; the same teachers, the same amount of time to study. Why do they get mad at me when I learn what I'm expected to learn?"

Harry nodded but said nothing.

"I show Ron the correct way do the levitating charm and he calls me a nightmare for it," Hermione said. Her voice was steady but ears threatened to fall from her eyes. "I asked Lavender and Parvati if they wanted to study with me but they rather giggle over _Teen Witch _magazinebut then get cheeky with me because I can't boil down four weeks worth of lessons down to a fifteen minute cram session."

Harry nodded again.

"It's just that…," Hermione stopped then laughed. "I guess I unloaded on you after all. Sorry."

"It's alright," Harry replied.

Hermione disengaged her hand from Harry's clasp. "We're quite the pair, aren't we?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Two loners exiled to the library," Hermione said. "Friendless outcasts."

"Back home we'd say 'grab your boots 'cause it's getting deep'."

Hermione quickly put a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter. She looked around quickly to see if Madame Price would come rushing over to her like an avenging angel but the librarian did not seem to have heard what little noise had escaped from Hermione. She cautiously removed her hand.

"You won't let me wallow in self pity, will you?" Hermione asked.

"It's a waste of time," Harry said.

"You're right," she replied. "So what were you working on?"

"My history assignment," Harry answered.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Professor Binns didn't assign any work."

"My history assignment for my Canadian schooling," Harry clarified.

"You've lost me," Hermione said perplexed.

"No great mystery," Harry replied. "While I am studying magic here at Hogwarts, I am keeping up with what I am expected to learn in the eyes of Canada. Lindsey's lucky. At Cape Caution, they teach this stuff right along side of the magic lessons."

"How can you keep up with your muggle education?" Hermione asked. "They can't fail but to notice that you aren't at your desk."

Harry chuckled. "Hermione, this is the first school building that I have ever been inside of in my life. The nearest town with a school is nearly one hundred miles from the ranch. All of our learning, me and my cousins that is, was done at home although the government has the tests you have to take. There are plenty of kids in Canada who live out away from the towns like I do so they go to school in the same way. Anyway, I've been keeping up with it because I don't want to be a grown man knowing magic but ignorant of everything else. I might want to go to college on day."

"You know, I haven't considered that," Hermione, the daughter of university graduates, said with a puckered brow. "I wonder if there is a program like that for English kids. I'll have to ask Mum to look into that for me. So, did you really live one hundred miles from a town?"

Harry was never much of a conversationalist but it was the first time Hermione had ever asked about his background so he leaned back and began to tell Hermione about his life growing up on a remote cattle ranch in the Rockies near the border of Alberta and British Columbia. He told her how he learned to ride and herd, how to judge range conditions and cattle health, helping with births of foals and calves, of blizzards, of the forest and streams, _Calgary Stampeders_ football, playing with his cousins, and being raised by his aunt and uncle.

"It's almost like you grew up in a different era, Harry," Hermione said. "No wonder you have such a hard time fitting in with the others here."

"I didn't think that I wasn't fitting in," Harry said truthfully.

"Harry," Hermione countered. "You're alone with me of all people in the library while a feast is going on. How much of a part of the crowd do you think you are?"

"There's a feast going on now?" Harry asked.

Hermione gave him a peculiar look. "It's Halloween night. You know, the biggest witch holiday on the calendar. Tons of sweets in the Great Hall. Special decorations."

"Is it suppertime already?" Harry asked.

"Harry, you may be different but you're still a boy," Hermione joshed. "C'mon, Let's go eat."

Book bags in hand, Harry and Hermione left the library. The halls and stairwells were deserted as they wound their way down to the great hall. To the surprise of Harry and Hermione, the hall was empty and dark.

"Are you sure about the time," Harry asked.

"Of course I am," Hermione responded. "I don't understand where everyone is."

Harry gave the vacant hall one last glance. "Well, never mind. I have some fruit in my room we can eat."

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why there is no one here," Hermione asked.

"It's strange but staring at an empty room on an empty stomach is not a likely way to figure out much," Harry answered.

Hermione grinned. "You are the most practical kid that I have ever met, Harry."

The two of them turned away from the hall and started back to the Gryffindor tower. Hermione thought about where everyone was. Harry thought about Louis Reil and the North-West Rebellion. Their steps echoed hollowly down the deserted corridor.

"What is that smell?" Hermione exclaimed suddenly.

Before Harry could guess the question became moot as a mountain troll came around the corner. With a savage growl, the troll raised a massive club and began to shamble toward the pair.

Harry and Hermione, being exceptional clever children, hit upon an exceptional clever plan simultaneously.

"Run!" they yelled at each other.

Unfortunately, as they spun around, arms, legs, and book bags all tangled together and both of them crashed to the floor. Harry separated himself from Hermione and leaped up brandishing his wand. Hermione scrambled on her hands and knees to where her own wand had landed when it fell out of her bag. In a flash she was beside Harry.

"What do you think about the disarming spell?" she asked.

"On three," Harry replied. "One, Two, THREE!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The spells shot from the wands of the students and caught the troll squarely in the chest. The club went bouncing down the passageway as the massive beast fell to one knee, breathing heavily. He struggled to regain his footing.

Harry and Hermione slowly backed up a few paces. They kept their wands before them. The troll finally stood and took one ragged step forward.

"Stunner?" Harry asked.

Hermione smiled savagely. "On three. One, Two, Three!"

'Stupefy!"

Once again the troll took two spells squarely in the chest. This time it was too much for him. Without any attempt to break his fall, the troll toppled over on his face. Dust was shook from the ceiling the reverberations of the huge creature's collapse.

Harry thought that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and slowly expelled it.

"Is it dead?" Hermione asked in a shaky voice.

"I'm not sure if it is or isn't," Harry said. "Anyway, it sounds as if the Mounties are coming."

Professors McGonagall and Quirrell came rushing around the corner. Professor McGonagall gasped as she spotted the prone unmoving troll.

"Explain yourselves," she demanded as Professor Snape limped up behind her. "Why aren't the two of you in your dormitory with the others?"

"We came down from the library to join the feast but found the hall empty," Harry started.

"We were going to the tower when we met the troll," Hermione quickly continued.

"We tried to run away but we ended up tripping over each other," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"Flight didn't work so we chose to fight," Hermione added. "We tried the disarming spell which sent his club flying but while the spell weakened him, it didn't stop him."

"So we nailed him with the stunning spell," Harry finished.

Professor McGonagall looked back and forth between the two students and then sighed heavily. "Do you two have any idea how lucky you were? There are very few first year students could survive an encounter with a full grown mountain troll and live to tell about it."

"You do them an injustice, Professor," Professor Snape spoke up from behind her. "I don't see luck at work here but wit and skill. Don't you agree that the handling of the troll was quite skillful, Professor Quirrell?"

Professor Quirrell gave his colleague a blank look. "Yes, it was quite a demonstration of skill," he said in an odd tone of voice.

Professor McGonagall glanced at the two men then returned her attention to her students. She placed a hand on a shoulder of both of them. She peered over her glasses and looked them deep into their eyes.

"At least you two had the sense to try and escape first but Professor Snape is correct. You two have shown unexpected skill in dealing with the troll. Please be careful in the future and don't allow this little victory make you brash and forget to continue to study and improve."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said.

"I'm sure that there are more fearsome things to be faced then a mountain troll, Professor," Harry replied. "I have no plans of slacking off."

Minerva raised an eyebrow at Harry. She often wondered what went through his mind knowing that his ultimate purpose here was to prepare for a life or death confrontation.

"You two get back to the tower," she said warmly as she gave each of them a tiny squeeze. "I think that five points should be awarded to each of you. Now go."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry and Hermione said together.

McGonagall turned and barked. "Trolls fall under your expertise, Professor Quirrell, so take care of him. I'm off to find the Headmaster. Tell any of the faculty or staff that you meet that the danger has passed, Professor Snape."

As McGonagall disappeared down the corridor, Snape stepped around the fallen troll. He waited as Harry and Hermione retrieved their bags and scattered books before walking with them toward their dormitory.

"Has Professor Flitwick taught either of those spells in Charms class yet?" he asked when they were some distance from the troll.

"No," Hermione answered.

"I know that Quirrell couldn't have possibly taught anything as practical as those two spells in his class," Snape said not bothering to hide his distain for his fellow teacher.

"Hermione and I practice spells on our own sometimes," Harry responded. "Like you, we thought that they would be very handy spells to know. Are you hurt, Professor?"

"Yes, slightly," he replied. "As much as I enjoy your company, I am walking with you because the infirmary is this way also."

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

"Let's just say that, unlike you Miss Granger, I need no one's help to fall down," Professor Snape said with a grin.


	4. chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction based on the characters and plots created by an obscure English author named J. K. Rowling just preceding and just after the turn of the millennium. The rights to such belong to Miss Rowling and her publishers.

The Janus Order

Chapter 4 

Harry and Professor Dumbledore slowly moved about the headmaster's office. Harry doubted if there could be a more interesting place in the world. There were machines and devices that tracked stars and planets, guarded Hogwarts from intrusion, translated languages, and that predicted the weather. He had a mirror that showed the viewer his hearts desire (which showed to Harry himself on horseback riding through his beloved mountains).

In addition to the mechanical items, there were thousands of books in dozens of languages crammed to overflowing in bookcases that dotted the walls.

"Peopled insist on giving me books as gifts," Dumbledore said somewhat bashfully as he and Harry thumbed through his collection.

_"A room without books is like a body without a soul," _Harry quoted.

"G. K. Chesterton," Dumbledore exclaimed, identifying the source of the quote. "That's your Aunt Jane's doing, isn't it? Chesterton's writing would appeal to her."

"Yes sir," Harry answered. "Both she and Uncle Sirius are great readers. So I started pretty early and the long winters back home give you plenty of time to read."

"I don't think that Sirius even knew that books existed during the first few years he attended Hogwarts but after he got interested in Jane Potter he knew if he was going to have any chance to win her he would have to exercise that muscle between his ears," Dumbledore chuckled as he sifted through his memories. "You father teased Sirius mercilessly for falling so completely in love with Jane but after he fell for your mother the shoe was on the other foot and I got some peace as Sirius and James diverted their energies to courtship instead of creating havoc."

"I think that Uncle Sirius is slightly disappointed that neither J.R. nor I inherited his or Dad's yen for mischief," Harry said. "But Lindsey is enough of a firecracker for all of us. Now that she's studying magic seriously, I for one, wouldn't turn my back on her for love or money."

Dumbledore laughed as he led Harry over to a settee. "There is more than a grain of truth in the old wives tale about boys being like their mothers and girls like their fathers. It has been commented on more then once here that despite being an almost identical copy of your father at your age, your spirit is like that of your mother."

"Aunt Jane has said so on occasion." Harry said as he sat down. "Sir, why are we having the lesson in here today?"

Dumbledore eased himself on to an overstuffed chair. "There will be no lesson today, Harry. We will merely talk. You are a bright and observant boy so it must have been very plain that I didn't approve of your Aunt Jane telling you about the prophecy."

"She made her position very plain also," Harry replied.

"We English have a reputation for beating around the bush as it were but someone forgot to mention that to Jane. She was blunt in speech and manner when she arrived here as a girl. The years have only increased her directness but what is done is done," Dumbledore said. "As headmaster I operate _in loco parentis_. I have grown very fond of you, Harry and don't wish harm to come to you especially harm that I may inadvertently cause. You have accepted the situation better then I thought possible but I want to ensure that we don't sacrifice your psyche on the altar of the greater good."

"To be honest, sir, while I have no doubt that everyone is telling the truth about my destiny, it still seems kinda unreal to me," Harry answered. "I mean I'm trying to learn all the things that everyone wants me to learn so that I can stay alive but it still seems weird that, as a kid, I have a mortal enemy even with the murder of my parents."

"We accept intellectually that evil exists but as good and decent people it is alien to our essence so it assumes an unreal quality," said Dumbledore.

"That about nails it, sir," Harry acknowledged.

"So no nightmares or waking up in cold sweats?" Dumbledore asked. "No why me?"

"No, sir," Harry answered truthfully. "I miss my family and my home but I don't lie awake at night crying about it but Voldemort rarely even enters my thoughts. I assume that your skill as a legilimens will tell you that I'm not lying."

Dumbledore smiled. "You are truthful by temperament and upbringing, Harry. I don't doubt your veracity. I am just cautious as to not ask of you more then you are capable of handling at your age and ensuring that you know that you can tell me if you feel too much stress."

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "So, no other difficulties; schoolwork, schoolmates, the food?"

"Well, there is one thing," Harry said hesitantly. "Christmas is in three weeks. Would you have any idea what to get for an eleven year old city girl?"


	5. chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction based on the characters created by J. K. Rowling. The ownership of said characters belong to Miss Rowling and her publishers

The Janus Order

Chapter 5

Hermione stayed in the shadows and kept as quiet as she could for she knew the moment anyone remembered that she was there she would be sent out of the infirmary. With tears pouring down her face, she clutched the moonstone pendant that Harry had given her for Christmas as Madame Pomfrey along with Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were trying greater and greater desperate measures to save Harry's life.

"Is that potion ready yet, Severus?" Madame Pomfrey demanded. "His heart's barely beating."

"Three minutes, minimum," Professor Snape answered. "Do what you must until then."

A teacart had be cleared and converted into a makeshift lab table. A portable fire was burning beneath a tiny brass cauldron that couldn't have held more then a pint. Professor Snape was stirring frantically watching the rate of boil and colour of the mixture.

Professor Dumbledore had his thumbs on Harry's temples as his index and middle fingers covered both of Harry's eyes. Dumbledore's own eyes were locked on a clear spinning fist sized crystal that Professor McGonagall kept levitated two feet above Harry's midsection.

Hermione, unable to sleep, had wandered down to the Gryffindor common room in the wee hours of the morning. There she found Harry staring into the fireplace with unblinking eyes. Unable to roust him, Hermione ran to Madame Pomfrey who raised the hue and cry for her colleagues. They had been working on him for over an hour with no success.

With a loud gasp, Dumbledore suddenly tumbled backwards off of the stool he was sitting on in a faint. Fortunately, Madame Pomfrey was stepping behind him at that moment and was able to break his fall. She eased him to the floor and checked the pulse and eyes of the unconscious headmaster.

"Keep his head elevated, Minerva," She ordered. She hopped to her feet and ran from the room as soon as Professor McGonagall took her place beside Dumbledore. Within moments she returned with a vial of green liquid.

Dumbledore chocked and sputtered as the nurse poured the solution down his throat but it revived him. He looked shockingly old to Hermione. It was only with the aid of the two women was he able to get off of the floor and onto a chair.

"I could feel his presence but I couldn't find him," He said in a hoarse, weak voice. "I had hoped that the trust we had established in these last few months would have been enough."

"The potion is ready," Snape called out as he took the small cauldron off the fire. He quickly performed a cooling charm and carefully he poured half of it into a glass of milk. He handed the glass to the nurse. McGonagall raised Harry's head up as Madame Pomfrey poured the emulsion passed Harry's lips. Hermione watched as Harry's adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. McGonagall gently lowered Harry back down on the pillow.

"How much time will the solution give us?" Dumbledore asked from his chair.

"If his body can take another dose, six hours," Pomfrey said. "If not, three or four hours."

"Either way, there's not enough time to bring Jane or Sirius here," McGonagall said sadly.

Dumbledore lowered his head on to his balled hands and wailed. "I knew I was teaching him too much too fast."

"Albus, you had no way of knowing that he would branch off into to this area on his own," McGonagall said as she knelt beside Dumbledore and took him into her arms. "How few grown wizards dare such a thing?"

Dumbledore looked at her with tear filled eyes. "I should have anticipated it. It is a natural facet of what I was teaching him and he is a clever boy."

Hermione stepped out of the shadows.

"Please," she begged. "Please tell me what is wrong with Harry."

The four adults looked at her in surprise.

"Don't tell to leave," she said. "Tell me what is wrong with Harry."

Professor Snape sighed. "Do you know what astral projection is?"

"In general terms I do," Hermione answered. "It's the ability to leave one's physical body and travel around the world in spirit form but we aren't taught anything like that here. I've seen the curriculum for all seven years."

"Do you know what legilimency and occlumency are?" Professor Snape asked.

"Mind reading and I guess you would say mind defense," Hermione replied.

"Astral projection is a step somewhat beyond legilimency and occlumency but it is on the same path," Professor Snape told her. "Harry has been practicing the latter two disciples since last July. Unfortunately, it appears that he stumbled upon the ability to project himself. He is now either unable or unwilling to return to his body so the body is dying from the abandonment. The sustaining life energy is dwindling."

"But why would he be unwilling to return?" Hermione asked. "Where in the world would be so enticing that he is willing to die to stay there?"

"Child, part of the danger of projection is that there are many dimensions available in astral form that aren't accessible to us in this reality," Professor McGonagall said wearily as she stood. "Harry may have found a place that brings him so much joy that he doesn't wish to return especially knowing what his future holds here."

"But also there are planes on which demons move far more freely then they do in this one and pose great peril to wizards unwary enough to encounter them," Dumbledore said. "But I didn't sense danger or fear during the few times I felt Harry."

"Why couldn't you find him?" Hermione demanded.

"Because whatever he feels for me is not enough to overcome the allure of wherever he is," the headmaster admitted sadly. "If his aunt and uncle were here, maybe but there is no way to get in contact with them and get them here before Harry dies."

"He would return for me," Hermione said in a voice scarcely above a whisper.

"What was that?" McGonagall asked.

"He would return if I asked him to," she said in a more forceful voice although she blushed a deep crimson.

Everybody turned to Dumbledore. Dumbledore stared at the supine body of Harry Potter, a child he had grown to love as his own son. He watched as the sheet covering his unexpectedly well muscled body rise and fall with each slow breath. He was an eleven year old boy but he was the best and perhaps last hope for a magical Britain free of the dark menace.

"You are her lecturers," Dumbledore finally said. "Do you think that she can be guided through the process and still return safely?"

"She's very intelligent," Professor McGonagall replied.

"Tricky," Professor Snape said. "Damn tricky but if there is any student here that could be successful without any training I would say that it would be Miss Granger."

"Severus, will you guide her?" Dumbledore asked.

"She is pubescent, Headmaster," Professor Snape answered. "There would be too many distracts for her if I were to attempt to guide her."

"It's a valid point, Albus," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't have Severus' skill but it would probably be smoother if I were the guide."

Dumbledore reluctantly nodded his assent. "You do so, Minerva. Severus, the crystal."

McGonagall beaconed Hermione to her side. "Child, how much do you trust me?"

"I trust you as much as I trust anyone save my parents," Hermione answered.

"What we are going to attempt requires an incredible level of intimacy," the older woman explained. "Its not as if I am going to run amuck through your memories but the barriers from mind to mind will be vague at times. You will feel as if you are losing your sense of identity. This will be very frightening but you must not give into that fear."

"I understand, Professor," Hermione answered.

"No, you don't," McGonagall said kindly. "Tell me about that pendant you're wearing."

"It was my Christmas gift from Harry," Hermione replied. "It's the first piece of grown up jewelry I ever had."

Professor McGonagall cupped Hermione's chin in her hand. "Tell me, child, is it the gift or the giver that makes it so important to you?"

"The giver," Hermione confessed.

"Remove your nightgown and sit down on the stool there," McGonagall said as she took off her robe.

"I am afraid that skin to skin contact will be necessary, Hermione," the professor said compassionately when she saw the embarrassed reluctance of the girl. "But leave the necklace on."

Hermione closed her eyes and pulled her gown over her head. Irrationally, she thought of her mother's warnings about wearing clean knickers at all times.

"If you can creak an eye open long enough to walk over here and sit down," McGonagall said sardonically.

Hermione opened one eye. Professor Snape had his back turned toward her and was concentrating on keeping the crystal levitated. The Headmaster had his head turned to the far wall. Madame Pomfrey was beside Harry's bed opposite of Professor Snape.

"I want you to grasp that pendant in your left hand and place the fingertips of your right hand on Harry's forehead," She said as Hermione sat down on the stool. "Relax and concentrate on the spinning crystal."

Hermione did as she was commanded. Professor McGonagall pressed her forehead against the back of Hermione's head. She wrapped her arms around Hermione, her crossed hands resting over the young girl's heart and under Hermione's left hand. Hermione felt the professor's breasts pressed against her back.

It began slowly. First, Hermione became conscious of her own heart beating below McGonagall's hands. Then the heartbeat took on an odd echo effect. Hermione realized that she was hearing and feeling the older woman's heart beat also. Soon they were beating together. McGonagall slowed down the rhythm.

Hermione felt a prickle in her brain as if a light electrical current was dancing over it. Hermione suffered a wave of panic as she suddenly saw two crystals. She was seeing through McGonagall's eyes.

"Stay calm," the voice echoed from without and within her mind.

Hermione fought down the panic. Odds and ends of memory darted across her consciousness. That dashing RAF pilot that she so idolized when she was a girl. The elation and relief at hearing of the defeat of Grindelwald.

"Focus on the crystal," McGonagall's voice called out as if from a cave.

She peered deeper into the crystal. Thousands and thousands of shards of light shot from it; multicoloured rays of light but they moved through space so leisurely as if light had become liquid. The room disappeared as wave after wave of light washed over her.

Hermione felt as if she was becoming part of the light. She could no longer feel her heartbeat.

Something caught her eye beyond the crystal. A twisted shimmering rope grew out of Harry's body like a metallic vine. It disappeared into the night sky.

Hermione felt herself straining for the rope.

"Yes, child. Follow the cord. Harry is at the other end."

There was a painless snap and Hermione rose. She became aware of the breeze from her wings as she flew around and around the silver rope. She went higher and higher. She flew to the stars.


	6. chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction based on the characters created by J. K. Rowling. Rights to said characters remain with Miss Rowling and her publishers.

The Janus Order

Chapter 6

Harry stretched out his arm and Hermione landed on it. Her talons wrapped around his forearm but it not look as if it caused Harry any pain.

"Harry, I am so glad to have found you," Hermione exclaimed her voice dripping with relief. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Harry answered with a smile. "But I wasn't aware that you had lost me."

"Harry, your body is lying in the hospital wing dying," Hermione cried.

Harry tenderly stroked her feathers. "It's nothing to be concerned about Hermione," He said.

"Nothing to be concerned about!" Hermione screeched. "Harry, I love you. I don't want you to die."

"Do I look as if I'm dying," Harry asked with a small grin on his lips.

Hermione looked away from Harry. For the first time she noticed her surroundings. They were on the edge of a glen. A temperate forest grew behind them with mountains rising up on three sides. A river charged noisy out of the mountains and slashed its way through the copious grasses of the glen only to disappear into a vast lake in the distance. The wind carried subtle fragrances that were unfamiliar to the city bred Hermione but spoke to her deepest atavistic memories.

She turned her huge eyes back to Harry.

"Harry, why are you a human while I'm an owl?" Hermione asked.

"Because that's the metaphor you chose to get here," Harry replied.

"I don't understand," she said.

"Do you want to be a girl again?"

"Yes."

"Then be so."

In the blink of an eye, Hermione's perspective changed. She was no longer on Harry's forearm but standing beside him. She moved her wings before her and found that she had hands again. Impulsively, she pulled Harry into an ardent hug.

"I was so afraid that I would never see you again," She sobbed.

Harry held her as her tears ran their course. With one hand he softly stocked her air as he had done her feathers moments earlier. He cooed soothing noises in her ear. Eventually, she stopped crying.

With a loud sniff Hermione broke out of Harry's embrace. "I probably look a fright. Do you have a handkerchief?" Hermione asked before her brain received the image that her eyes sent it. "Oh damn, Harry, you'll naked! I'm naked!"

Harry extended his arm and opened his hand. There was a large blue handkerchief in it. Hermione frowned at the offered cloth but took it anyway. Hermione wiped her eyes then blew her nose loudly. When she looked up Harry was clad in blue jeans, a dark green tee shirt and black boots.

"You could have put clothes on me too," Hermione said.

"No, but you can," Harry answered serenely.

With a thought, Hermione covered herself with a white summer dress. Soft slippers materialized on her feet. The abused handkerchief disappeared but the moonstone pendant rested against her chest.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked.

"Alberta."

"We're in Canada?" Hermione asked in confusion

"No, not Canada," Harry said. "But Alberta none the less. Where we are I have chosen it to be what I would consider a perfect representation of Alberta."

"Where ever we are," Hermione said unable to grasp what Harry was trying to tell her. "We have to get back to Hogwarts. You're dying."

Harry affectionately took Hermione's hand.

"Come with me," He said. "And don't worry."

The trail they followed skirted the edge of the forest. The leaves of oak, ash, and laurel trees rustled in the breeze as deer emerged to graze upon the lush grasses of the glen. Hundreds of birds sang from the branches. A brown bear took time away from her raid of a bees nest to watch the two children walk by. Further along, Harry rubbed the head of a gray wolf that was lying on a boulder soaking up the sun.

The path turned downhill suddenly and Hermione saw a small cabin made of field stone with a thatch roof below them. On a swing in the shade of a willow, a young couple held hands as they leisurely rocked back and forth.

They stood as Harry and Hermione approached the cabin. The woman was pale and slender. She wore a brown skirt and a peasant blouse. Knee high brown leather boots were laced tightly to her legs. She had long thick auburn hair and melancholy green eyes. The man was as tall as the woman but the broadness of his shoulders give the impression that he was somewhat shorter. He was clad all in black, shirt, trousers, and boots. Unruly black hair framed a face that Hermione had grown to know so well.

"Hermione, these are my parents, James and Lily," Harry introduced. "Mom, Dad, let me make you known to Hermione Granger, my friend."

"Welcome, Hermione," Lily said in the soft accent of Hermione's own southern England.

"I thought you were dead," she blurted.

"In some places we are," James joked. His baritone voice was smooth and cultured.

"Is this Heaven?" Hermione asked.

"In a way," Lily answered.

"I don't understand," Hermione said in confusion. "I haven't understood anything since I arrived here."

Lily put her arm around the young girl and ushered her to the swing. James and Harry sat down in two wicker chairs that hadn't been there a moment before.

"Let's start with what you do understand," Lily said as they sat down. "Why are you here?"

"Harry's dying," Hermione said although it now sounded like a bizarre concept to her. "Dumbledore couldn't find him but I thought I could. I did but it's the last of this affair that I'm sure of."

"Interesting choice of words," James said roguishly.

"How did you find Harry?" Lily asked in her soft melodious voice.

"I just followed the cord," Hermione said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I became an owl and flew along the cord until I spied Harry on the mountainside."

"Mountainside?" Lily asked.

"She is seeing what I created," Harry explained. "A Platonic ideal of Alberta."

"If she followed you that would be logical," James acknowledged.

"Now I'm lost again," Hermione said. "Do you see something different from what I see?"

Lily placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder and smiled. In an instant, the temperate forests of Alberta vanished. They were on a Mediterranean island. The hot sun beat down upon the beach but the warm breeze kept the temperature bearable, especially in the shade where Hermione found herself with the others. The stone cabin was now a villa in an arabesque style.

"James and I have a deep love of the Mediterranean," Lily said fondly. "We honeymooned on his family schooner, the _Crowned__Sea__ Lion._ That's it moored yonder."

The single mast schooner swayed lethargically on the water. The harsh cries of seagulls could be heard as they flew about the ship and pier.

"Harry sought us out," Lily said. "Having never known us, he was curious and to our surprise and pride he had the skill to come to James and me. This has been a joy for the three of us. We have had such long, long conversations."

"But Harry's only been gone a few hours," Hermione said.

"Time does not exist here," James said.

Hermione fell silent for a few moments. The Potters kept quiet and allowed Hermione her thoughts. She wrestled with the concepts that this place and the Potters had unfolded for her. She finally shook her head. It would require a huge amount of reading for her to understand the mechanics that governed this place; mechanics that Harry appeared to have comprehended intuitively.

"I'm sorry," Hermione apologised. "You must think that I'm thicker then a plank but I'm having difficulty understanding eternity."

James smiled. "Eternity isn't to be analyzed. You simply accept it."

Harry stood. "Let's go for a swim then I'll head on back to Hogwarts with you."

Hermione took his offered hand. Together they walked out into the hot sunshine and down along the white sands of the beach. Tiny crabs scurried across their path while beach grasses bent before the wind. Harry escorted Hermione to the end of the pier. Without a word he dove in. When he crested the surface, Harry was in the form of a dolphin. Laughing, Hermione dove in after him.

From the shade of the trees, James and Lily watched the two dolphins skip across the waves. They dove and jumped as they worked their way further and further from the coast.

"She is able to see the cord," Lily said.

"That she can," James answered as he slipped his arm around his wife's waist.

"I don't think that she understands the significance of that," Lily said.

"I'm sure she doesn't."

Harry opened his eyes. A large crystal was spinning above his midsection. Professor Snape was on one side of him. Madame Pomfrey was on the other. He could feel Hermione's fingertips on his forehead.

"He's back, Albus!" Madame Pomfrey cried out.

Hermione's fingers left his head. Harry attempted to sit up but the nurse pushed him back down.

"Oh no, laddie boy," she said. "You aren't going anywhere until you are thoroughly examined."

"That was quick," Dumbledore said. His voice sounded weak to Harry's ears. The room was mostly blurs to Harry.

"Does someone have my glasses?" Harry asked.

"I think that they're still on that end table in the common room," Hermione answered from across the room.

"Let's have everyone leave, shall we," Madame Pomfrey said. "You can lecture him to death tomorrow. I want to assess the damage he managed to do to himself with this escapade."

"I'm fine, Harry insisted.

"Well then, what more do we need?" Madame Pomfrey asked archly. "Certainly not my decades of healing experience for the patient said that he is fine."

Harry knew a losing battle when he saw one. With a sigh he laid back on to the bed.

"I'm sorry if I caused any trouble," he called out. "But honestly there was never any danger."

"We'll talk later, Harry," Dumbledore said appearing briefly above his head. Harry felt a sharp prang of guilt when he saw the headmaster's haggard appearance.

Hermione walked over to his bed and lightly kissed him. Her hair draped about Harry's face.

"A new measure of eternity will be the number and length of the sermons you will be enduring for this stunt," she whispered to him.

Harry breathed in her fragrance. "You're probably right," he said. "But maybe I can convince them that it was alright."

She throatily laughed as she straightened up. "Optimist."


	7. chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** _This is a work of fan fiction based on the book Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J. K. Rowling. All rights remain with J. K. Rowling and her publishers. This is posted for pleasure and without any claims of originality or expectation of material gain_

The Janis Order

Chapter 7

The Gryffindor first formers noisily poured into the common room with even more then their usual enthusiasm. Professor Quirrell had unexpectedly dismissed the class after only a few minutes. He started and stopped his lecture several times before finally giving it up as a lost cause. Most of the students thought that they could make better use of the extra time anyway. Harry and Hermione, unimpressed with the quality of Professor Quirrell's lessons, for once found themselves agreeing with the majority of their schoolmates.

"I wonder what the matter with Professor Quirrell was," Hermione mused as she paused at the base of the girls' wing stairs. "He didn't particularly look ill although he never really looks all that well."

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "It was as if he wasn't completely there in essence. When I tried to focus I couldn't get a bead on him but that may some sorta defense method that I don't know about."

"Speaking of ill, you sound a little down, Harry," Hermione said grasping his forearm. "Is anything wrong?"

"It's just the change of season," he replied. "Back home the snows are melting. We'd finally be able to get out of the house. Usually, Uncle Sirius, J. R. and I would take to the hills on our horses. Just ride around goofing off really. Sometimes we'd run across a bear hardly awake from hibernation stumbling from his cave."

"I've heard enough," Hermione said firmly. "No library today. We're going for a walk. Go get your coat on and a hat, too. I won't have you catching cold on me."

Twenty minutes later, the bundled up pair were walking hand in hand across the still brown and muddy grounds of Hogwarts. Thick blue gray clouds billowed hundreds of meters upwards into the sky. The lake was covered with tiny whitecaps as a stout wind lashed at its surface. The only spot of colour was the evergreen bushes along the north wall of the castle.

"A far cry from the Mediterranean, eh?" Harry said ironically.

"Days like this I wonder if there are any magic academies on Malta or at least in Provence," Hermione replied. "But I bet you think that this is perfect weather."

_"Now swoops the wind from every coign and crest_

_ Like filaments of silver, ripped and spun._

_ The snow reels off the drift-ridge in the sun;_

_ And smoky clouds are born across the west,_

_ Clouds that would snow if they had time to rest."_ Harry quoted.

Hermione laughed richly. A sound that Harry thought was perhaps the most pleasant sound in the world.

"Harry, you continue to surprise me," Hermione said bumping him with her shoulder. "Now you add poetic to the lexicon of words to describe Harry Potter."

"As I keep telling you," Harry responded in good humour as he bumped her back. "The winters are very long back home and we have a huge library. I have read an awful lot. There's not much else to do."

"Every time I listen to you, I believe it more and more," Hermione said.

"But to answer you original question," Harry replied. "No, this isn't perfect weather. I'll take a warm, sunny day every time."

"Like it was where ever we were?" Hermione asked in a sober tone.

"Yes," Harry answered frowning at her sudden mood change. "What's wrong?"

"There's so much about that entire episode that I am just unable to square away," Hermione said.

"I'll answer any question you have the best I can," Harry said. "What's the first question?"

Hermione walked in silence for a few moments. Harry could tell that she was organizing her thoughts by the way she bit her lower lip. He waited for her.

"How did you know where to find your parents?" she finally asked.

"How did you know where to find me? Harry asked in return.

"I followed the cord, of course," she said. "But that cord connected your body with your spirit, if that's the correct term."

"It's as good as any word for it," Harry said mildly.

"Accepted then," Hermione replied. "But you could have hardly followed such a cord from your parent's bodies to their spirits. I'm sorry to put it so frankly but your cord was connected to a living being."

"True but I could see the bonds that tied me to my Mom and Dad," Harry said. "Love binds us in a manner that physical death and the corruption of the flesh can not destroy."

"I remember one of my science lessons was on magnetism. The earth puts out all of these magnetic fields but we can't see them or feel them but scientists think that maybe some animals do notice them and navigate using them. In an astral state we can see and feel the connecting bonds in the same sorta way."

Hermione slowly nodded. "Okay, I can comprehend that."

"Anything else bothering you?"

"Why were you able to project yourself and move about so easily yet Dumbledore, who is a much older and far more experienced wizard, had such a difficult time?" Hermione asked.

"Dumbledore is a great wizard and I have learned a lot from him," Harry answered. "The problem he has is that he looks at projection as barriers to be overcome. It is a European idea. The native peoples of North American view the different planes as coexisting peacefully and so move a little more freely from plane to plane."

"I had the good luck of having a Cree shaman notice me staring at a hawk one day when I was seven. He asked me what I was doing and I told him that I was trying to become the hawk. I guess he thought it was a good answer because he sat down beside me and began to teach me about the bonds that connect all living things and how a man could connect through those bonds and see through the eyes of other creatures. I got to see him three times over the nest two years and every time he would show me a little more. I guess that because of all of that, astral projection didn't seem all that difficult to me."

"Did you become the hawk?" Hermione asked with a smile.

"No but I connected with her and saw what she saw," Harry answered. "It was exhilarating."

"I'll take your word for it," Hermione said.

Harry stopped walking. Slowly he scanned the mountain that rose on the far side of the lake. He found what he was searching for sitting on the remains of a lightning blasted oak tree.

He sat down on the driest piece of ground he could find and patted his knees.

"Sit down on my lap," he said. "Lay your legs along mine."

"Mother warned me about men like you," Hermione joked.

"Your mother never met anyone like me," Harry replied.

"Good point," Hermione as she carefully sat down. Harry wrapped his arms around her midsection.

"I want you to look at that eagle," Harry said. "Empty your mind of all thought but that eagle. Just relax and look at the eagle."

The minutes ticked away. Errant thoughts had to be continuously fought back. Physical discomforts (and some physical comforts) had to be dismissed from her consciousness but Hermione had a disciplined nature. She worked through her memory and tried to follow the paths along which Professor McGonagall had guided her. Her heart and breathing slowed. The eagle gained greater and greater clarity in her mind.

Suddenly her vision shifted. Hogwarts and its grounds came into incredible focus. She was seeing what the eagle was seeing and with the eagle's incredible vision. She even saw herself and Harry.

"I wondered how far I could see from the astronomy tower," Hermione thought.

The eagle took to wing as soon as the thought was complete. He flew directly to the astronomy tower and perched there.

"He went where I wanted him to go," Hermione thought excitedly.

Movement caught the eagle's/Hermione's eye. Professor Quirrell was hurrying across the lawns. He sped past the charred remains of Hagrid the groundskeeper's cabin, which had burnt to the ground two nights previously under rather mysterious circumstances, and into the Forbidden Forest. The eagle took flight again. He soared over the wood.

Hermione was able to catch glimpses every so often of her lecturer but as he got deeper into the forest the intertwining branches, even bereft of leaves as they were, proved to be effective camouflage. Hermione released the bird and returned her mind to her own skull alone.

"That was incredible," she exclaimed as she bounced up. "Not only could I see through its eyes; I could have it go where I wanted it to go."

Harry stood and stretched.

"That's great, Hermione," Harry said. "To be honest I wasn't sure that you could do it what with you being a city girl and all but I guess I was wrong,"

"What in the world does living in a town have to do with this?" Hermione demanded.

"I wasn't sure if a closeness to nature was needed or not," Harry replied.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him but upon reflection it was perhaps a logical consideration.

"You are forgiven but never doubt me or my abilities again," she said with mock haughtiness.

"Never again," Harry promised in feigned submissiveness.

"Furthermore, I grew up in Oxford which by English standards isn't all that big of a town being somewhat less the 140,000 people," Hermione added.

"Practically a hick," Harry said. "So I gathered that you enjoyed being an eagle if only second hand."

"It was fantastic," Hermione gushed. "But the oddest thing; I saw Professor Quirrell run into the Forbidden Forest like he was being chased by a jilted bride and her four brothers."

Harry rubbed his scar. "You know, he's getting weirder by the day."

"Shall we continue our walk?" Hermione asked dismissing her professor's unusual behavior from her thoughts.

"No, I think we have hounded the blues away but now my pants are wet," Harry said wiping the dirt from his backside. "Let's go in and find some hot tea and dry clothes."

They linked hands and trekked back to their dormitory.

_Author's Note:_ The lines of poetry that Harry recited are from a poem titled _March_ by Duncan Campbell (D.C.) Smith (1862-1947) who was part of a group of Canadian literary lions known as _The Confederation Poets._ Charles G. D. Roberts, Bliss Carman, and Archibald Lampman (my personal favorite of the four) were the other members of that group.

March originally published in the volume

Labour and the Angel

By D. C. Smith

Boston: Copeland and Day

1898


	8. chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction based on the book Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J. K. Rowling and published by Bloomsbury Books and Scholastic Press. The rights to the characters and plot are retained by them. This is written without claims of originality or in the expectation of monetary or material gain.

The Janus Order

Chapter 8

Harry had been restless for several days. The feeling of general unease that he had felt for nearly a month had sharpened into outright anxiety. At night as he slept Harry could feel Voldemort probing as if he knew precisely where Harry was at. Fortunately for Harry, his nearly full year of training in occlumency was evidently enough to keep the Dark Lord at bay.

Harry, along with Hermione, went to Dumbledore and told him what was happening. The headmaster tried to use a pensive to track Voldemort down using Harry's memories of the night time explorations. It didn't bring the result that they hoped for.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Dumbledore apologised as he stepped away from the pensive. "The trail just isn't strong enough. Voldemort has long been a master at evasion."

Harry nodded from his position on the settee. Hermione sat next to him with her concern plain to see on her face.

"Can you tell if you know who is nearby or not?" Professor McGonagall asked. She was sitting on an overstuffed chair at a right angle to Harry and Hermione. She, too, was concerned for Harry. She also was concerned with the obvious depth of feeling that had grown between her two young students. Over the course of the school year, the two of them had become inseparable. Even now, Hermione had Harry's hand between her own. McGonagall doubted if they were even aware of how automatic it had became for both of them to be in near constant physical contact. The two of them were still some months shy of their twelfth birthdays yet were forming an attachment that was years ahead of what should be expected of most adolescents. Indeed, they were scarcely beginning puberty.

"No, Ma'am," Harry replied with a shake of his head. "It seemed as if he was close but in the land of dreams distances are deceiving."

The fanciful wording caused Dumbledore to smile as he eased himself into a chair opposite of the transfiguration professor. "Dreams are nothing if not deceptive, young Harry, but I want to reassure you that I have taken every precaution possible to guard your well being. Hogwarts is the safest place on Earth."

"Heck, Headmaster," Harry groaned. "After all that effort, it makes my request that much more difficult to ask."

"No, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"I can do it, Sir."

"No, Harry," Dumbledore reiterated forcefully.

"Voldemort can't harm me in that state, Sir. I am too well protected. Besides, there is a very good chance he won't even know I am there."

Dumbledore paused. What Harry said was true. How he knew so, Dumbledore didn't know. Dumbledore had been expecting the confrontation to take place several years down the road after Voldemort had managed to regain a corporal form and Harry had been trained as well as he could have been but to trap Voldemort now while he was still weak; it was simply too great of an opportunity to let pass by.

"I agree with your plan, Harry," Dumbledore finally said. "But with one provision; I must accompany you."

"You've made good progress these last few weeks," Harry agreed with a grin.

"So there is a bit of your father's cheek in you, after all," Dumbledore laughed.

"Headmaster, I must protest," McGonagall stated sharply. "The last journey of that sort this young man took nearly killed him."

"Yes ma'am, it did," Harry said. "But I have found out what I did wrong since then. It won't happen again."

"Minerva," Dumbledore said soothingly. "You know that I would not risk Harry's life recklessly. We will be safe."

Professor McGonagall could tell that the Headmaster had made his mind up to proceed and that she wasn't going to be able to dissuade him.

"You old fool," McGonagall grumbled without force. "What do you wish for a focal point?"

"Oh, this candle on the table here should be fine," Dumbledore said as he reached out and set fire to the wick. "Now, if Miss Granger would be so kind as to relinquish her place to me, we'll get started. Dim lights!"

The room fell into twilight at the headmaster's command. Hermione gave Harry's hand a quick squeeze then vacated the settee for Dumbledore. The old man and the young boy sat side by side and gazed into the flickering light of the red candle before them.

Hermione sat down in the chair that the headmaster had been sitting on. For the most part she kept her eyes on Harry but ever so often she would steal a glance at her head of house. It was obvious even to a girl as young as Hermione that in this informal, unguarded milieu, a different woman emerged from the gruff, formal professor that rigidly governed her charges in an no nonsense fashion. It was a woman that Hermione very much wanted to get to know.

Harry waited by Fawkes. The phoenix would shift his glance from Harry back to the settee from time to time.

"He should be along shortly," Harry said to the bird.

"Yes, he should," Fawkes said.

"Will you be with us?" Harry asked.

"I'll be somewhat behind you," Fawkes replied. "We don't want to give up the element of surprise if you happen to stumble across your quarry. Ah, here's Johnny come lately now. Did you get lost, Albus?"

"I was trying to sell you to a chicken plucker but he wouldn't go more then two Knuts," Dumbledore responded.

Fawkes's laugh came out as a cackle which startled the two females.

"Albus stop joking around with that bird and get a move on," McGonagall commanded.

"Can she see us?" a surprised Harry asked.

"No," Dumbledore smiled. "But she has known me for fifty years."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said noticing the beam of golden glistening light that flowed between the headmaster and the professor. Harry's eyes, however, fell quickly on a crimson beam.

"I knew that we were connected," Harry exclaimed.

"But the mystery is why the two of you are so intertwined," Dumbledore ruminated.

"Fate, chance, destiny, the will of God, who knows," Harry said shrugging the matter off.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Have you ever read any works of Taoist philosophy, Harry?"

"No, Sir. Why?"

"It's just that you embody the lifestyle it advocates almost perfectly without trying. Come. Let us follow the trail."

They walked along following the beam. They passed through several walls and rooms and crossed a hallway. They emerged in an untidy apartment that smelled heavily of garlic. Lying on a bed tossing in fidgety sleep was Professor Quirrell. He was wearing only a pair of boxers which left his emaciated body to the view of Harry and Dumbledore. His head sans his habitual turban seemed curiously misshaped. Harry's mouth dropped opened as he distinguished what his eyes beheld. Dumbledore quickly pulled him back out of the apartment. They returned to their bodies without delay.

"That was very rather quick," McGonagall commented as Harry and Dumbledore came out of their trances.

"Did you find him?" Hermione asked.

"Lights," Dumbledore commanded. "Miss Granger, I am going to ask you not to ask about what we discovered. For the moment, it is a question of your safety and the safety of the other students here. Do I have your word?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione promised reluctantly.

"Harry, I want you to do nothing until I have had an opportunity to think on how to best use this knowledge to our advantage," Dumbledore said.

"I have no idea as to what to do, sir so I'm more then willing to wait on you," Harry replied.

"Minerva, would you please stay here while I go and roust Severus out of bed?" Dumbledore asked.

"You must be tired from the effort even if you weren't gone all that long," Professor McGonagall said. "I'll go and get Severus."

"Thank you," Dumbledore said in a voice more sad then tired. "You two get some sleep. You have exams tomorrow."

"Yes, Headmaster."

"Good night, Professor Dumbledore."

Professor McGonagall and the children left together. They parted ways outside of the headmaster's office.

"I want the both of you to get a good night's sleep. You are one and two among the first formers in grade point average and I want you to keep it that way," Professor McGonagall said. "It will do Professor Flitwick some good not to have one of his Ravenclaws first overall for a change."

Hermione laughed. "We'll do our best, Ma'am."

"I didn't know we were that high in the rankings," Harry admitted truthfully.

Professor McGonagall glanced down at the intertwined fingers of the pair. "Well you are, Harry. Good night, then," she said as she spun on her heels.

"Good night," they called after her.

"That was a strange look she gave us," Harry said as they turned toward the Gryffindor dormitory. "I mean, I'm sure that lots of students don't bother to see where they rank in their class."

"That's not what she was looking at," Hermione said. "While you were gone, the two of us had a most interesting conversation."


	9. chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** J. K. Rowling wrote a story. Bloomsbury Books and Scholastic Press published that story. Then I come along and write a story blatantly based on the fruits of their labour. It would be wrong but since I call it a work of fan fiction and acknowledge that all rights to the characters still are in the hands of Miss Rowling and her publishers and I don't make any attempt to profit from the posting of my story I get to stay out of jail. Since I have better things to do then to become the boy toy of cell block D, it all works out fine.

The Janus Order

Chapter 9

"Time," Professor Binns called out. "Quills down. Roll up your parchments."

A cheer erupted from the first formers of Gryffindor House. Their last examination of their first year was done. Noisily, they pushed back their chairs and rushed to the door scarcely pausing long enough to toss their parchments on the Professor's desk.

"I better had passed," Ron Weasley said to Seamus Finnegan as they went out of the room. "I would hate being in the same classes as my little sister next year."

"If I didn't pass, I won't have to worry about next year; I'd have to worry about surviving the wrath of Mum this summer," Seamus joked.

"You've got that right, mate," Ron laughed.

As usual, Hermione and Harry were the last two to leave. Harry was by habit fairly slow moving. Hermione, while inclined to move more quickly, wasn't going anywhere without him. Harry stretched like a cat and then headed for the desk where Hermione and the professor were waiting on him with differing degrees of patience.

"I enjoyed your class this year, Professor Binns," He said as he laid his test down. "If you don't mind me asking, what are your plans for the summer break?"

The ghost looked startled to have a student actually talk to him after class especially after the final class of the year.

"Well, I'm researching a paper on Elfric the Eager's uprising. I'm thinking that I may even expand it into a book," Professor Binns admitted somewhat shyly.

"I studied about the uprising but you didn't put anything on the exam about him," Hermione said.

"Well, I can't put everything on the first examination, can I now," the Professor answered. "Usually, Elfric and his exploits find their way onto the fourth year final."

"Forewarned is forearmed," Harry said. "Good bye, Professor. Good luck on your research."

"Thank you," Professor Binns replied. "Have a good summer yourselves."

Hermione began going over the examination question by question as soon as they left the room. It was a habit that Harry felt was peculiar but it seemed be Hermione's way of relaxing away the stress of the test so Harry let her ramble. Instead of returning to the dormitory, Harry led her outside into the warm June sunshine. The vast lawns of Hogwarts teemed with students celebrating the end of their studies for the year. Harry headed for a large yew tree that had yet failed to attract anybody to its shade.

Harry sat down his book bag and took out his wand.

"The headmaster showed me how to do this but I have never tried it before," Harry said.

Hermione watched closely as Harry performed an intricate maneuver with his wand. "Scamnumi!"

A series of white wicker sofas appeared encircling the massive tree.

"Bravo," Hermione applauded as she took off her robe and carefully folded it.

"Oh, rats," Harry grumbled, disappointed with the results and feeling the effects of the spell's energy drain.

"What's with you," Hermione said. "That was an impressive piece of magic for someone who only completed his first year of study ten minutes ago."

"Thank you," Harry said. "But I was only trying to make one sofa not eight of them. We'll be swarmed with company in no time now."

Hermione chuckled as she patted his arm. "It's better that way, Harry. As I told you, it makes Professor McGonagall nervous when we're alone. Let's grab the seat with the best view of the lake before anyone else does."

They sat down. The sofa proved to be fairly comfortable even without any cushions and it held the couple's weight without complaint.

"I guess it wasn't too bad of a spell," Harry admitted as he shed his robe.

"Of course not," Hermione said. "Now, what's in your bag that's edible?"

With a flourish, Harry extracted two turkey sandwiches on hard rolls wrapped in paper, two bananas, a bag of crisps, and two bottles of milk. He even remembered to bring straws and cloth napkins.

"You do think ahead, don't you?" Hermione asked with a laugh.

"I try," Harry answered stuffing his robe into the now empty book bag.

"You may want to fold it first," Hermione said as she peeled her banana. "So what was all that with Professor Binns?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked obeying her suggestion to fold his robe. "I've had more or less the same conversation with all of the professors this week as we finished up. It's mere politeness to let them know that I appreciated their efforts to educate me this year."

'I suppose that you are right," Hermione said. "I thought at first that you were trying to flatter them but you are far too honest to say something that you didn't mean but I was just surprised when you did the same thing to Professor Binns."

"Why?" Harry asked.

Hermione leaned over to him conspiratorially. "Because he's so bloody boring," she whispered so no one would hear her say anything negative about a teacher.

Harry laughed. "I'll be the first to admit that he isn't the most stimulating lecturer but, you know, you have to admire someone so dedicated to something that he won't even let death stop him."

Hermione nodded approvingly. "That's a good way of looking at it. You know you're right about it being polite to let them know that they are appreciated. I think that I'll write thank you notes to all of our professors."

Harry proved to be correct about the appeal of wicker furniture in shade. The sofas were quickly filled; mostly by teenaged couples in various stages of romantic entanglement. Harry ignored the latecomers concentrating instead on his food but Hermione eavesdropped shamelessly. Before she munched on the last crisp three couples had made clandestine plans to meet over the summer; two couples decided to amicable go their separate ways and one pair of Ravenclaw sixth formers broke up in spectacular fashion when she strolled up as he had his tongue in the mouth of a Hufflepuff fifth former.

"You would have thought that a Ravenclaw would have had the wit to run away from a woman that angry; his new girlfriend did," Hermione said as she watched a couple of his mates help the incapacitated lothario to the hospital wing.

"You would have thought that he would have had the wit not to publicly cheat on a woman, in the first place," Harry said mentally shuttering at the memory of the swiftness and accuracy with which the bloke's now ex-girlfriend's foot connected with his family jewels.

"You don't know William," a girl said from the bench next to them. "He thought that he was God's gift to women when he showed up here and has gotten more cavalier since then. Thought he could wrap any woman around his pinkie, he did. I wonder if William will be singing a different tune next year."

"You bet he will; it'll be counter-tenor," her companion said causing everyone within hearing to laugh.

Shaking his head, Harry collected the left over debris of their lunch. As he did so an elf owl landed on the back of the sofa. Hermione quickly snatched the message off of its leg as Harry looked around to see if anyone had noticed the small bird's arrival. Since no one was looking their way, Harry turned his attention to Hermione who was reading the missive.

With a jerk of her head she stood and began to walk away from the shade of the yew tree. Grabbing both of their book bags, Harry quickly followed her. They were in the middle of the lawn before Hermione said a word.

"The message said to be in Dumbledore's office at nine o'clock tonight," Hermione said quietly.

"He wants both of us?" Harry asked surprised that the headmaster would include Hermione in what ever stratagem that he had formulated.

Hermione grinned but her eyes were without humour in them. "Let's just say that the wording was a little vague when it came to who was actually directed to appear, shall we?"

Having just watched one angry girl in action, Harry wasn't going to create another one right before him.

"Okay," he said.

Hermione's smile reached her eyes this time. She hooked her arm around his and leaned her head on his shoulder. It made walking awkward but Harry didn't say anything against that either.


	10. chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction written without expectation of monetary or material gain. The rights to the characters are retained by J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Books and Scholastic Press.

The Janus Order

Chapter 10

Harry sat on a hard wooden bench with his back pressed against the cold stone wall. His eyes were closed but he was listening to Dumbledore explain to Hermione how He had devised the series of enchantments and impediments to protect the philosopher's stone some months ago.

"Rumours had come to me that Voldemort and his Death Eaters would make an attempt to steal my friend Nicholas Flamel's philosopher's stone which is the only one currently in existence," Dumbledore told the wide eyed girl. "I placed it in the care of Gringott's until our preparations here were complete. An attempt was made to steal the stone from the bank the very day we removed it to here."

"Just hours after I picked it up, in fact," Hagrid added. The huge man was crouched in a corner yet his head still brushed the ceiling. He smelled of grass, earth, game, and forest; aromas that brought a nostalgic smile to Harry's face as he thought of the _Flying B _ranch.

"The staff and I created a series of obstacles, each one in the area of our expertise, between the third floor corridor and the chamber where the stone now rests," Dumbledore continued.

"Except you failed to mention the existence of a back way in," Professor Flitwick said a bit sharply from his place at Harry's side.

"I know, dear friends," Dumbledore replied forlornly. "I feared that amongst us was a traitor. It broke my heart to suspect any of you but, as Professor Quirrell actions have demonstrated, it was the right decision."

"I didn't even know about it, Filius," Professor McGonagall said.

Hermione saw that the transfiguration professor's words dispelled any lingering hurt feelings among her colleagues. Hermione guessed that the staff knew that the relationship between the Headmaster and Minerva McGonagall was somewhat more then strictly professional and if she didn't know either, there was no reason to feel slighted.

"What protects the stone then?" Hermione asked.

"First, Hagrid here provided a giant three headed dog to guard the entrance," Dumbledore began. "If we could have waited a few more months he would have provided something a little more interesting for us."

That brought laughter from the adults in the room although Hermione and Harry didn't see where the humour was. Hagrid laughed with the rest of them but what little skin that anyone could see on his face turned a bright pink.

"If, by chance or skill, one gets by Fluffy," Dumbledore started again.

"Excuse me, _Fluffy?" _Hermione interrupted.

"Well, a dog's gotta have a name, don't he?" Hagrid said.

"Then our intruder will have to navigate through a patch of Devil's snare that Professor Sprout grew at the bottom of the shaft below the trapdoor," Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.

Professor Sprout nodded her head in acknowledgement of her contribution to the stone's defense. She sat on a bench opposite of Harry and the charms professor. Professor McGonagall was with her.

"After that, our burglar would have to find the right key out of hundreds that Professor Flitwick has charmed to fly," the headmaster said. "Which would lead into a room where Minerva has enchanted a giant chess set that is designed to prevent anyone from crossing the room unless they defeat the defenders in a match. Beyond that Professor Snape has set up a logic puzzle with seven bottles of liquid."

"What sort of puzzle is it?" Hermione asked.

"Quite a cunning one if you ask me," Dumbledore replied. "When one steps before the table, they are trapped by walls of flame that can't be crossed using a freeze flame spell. You have to choose one of the bottles and drink it based on a riddle that Professor Snape left on the table. Some bottles contain wine, others poison. One bottle's contents will allow you to move back from where you came and the one bottle will allow you to move forward where you get to met a mountain troll, Professor Quirrell's contribution to the protections. If one is still alive, he gets into the chamber next to us where I have hid the stone in a magic mirror."

"It's a good thing to have built this room," Hermione said. "Otherwise you couldn't have followed the burglar into the chamber."

"How's that?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Well, if only one bottle has the necessary solution to allow you to pass forward through the flames, the burglar would have drunk it before you arrived," Hermione answered. "You would be trapped in the flames unless you guessed which bottle had the solution to let you go backwards."

"Clever girl," Professor Sprout said.

"Thank you," Hermione said. "But how did you know that tonight was the night that the attempt would be made to steal the stone?"

Dumbledore chuckled mirthlessly. "I received an "urgent" owl late this morning directing me to come to the Ministry of Magic immediately on a matter of great importance. As you are aware, figures in portraits can move from painting to painting within a building. You may not know, however, with portraits of the same individual, whoever has been painted can travel from one portrait to another portrait of himself over great distances. There are some in my office that can travel nearly instantaneously to the Ministry building. It was very easy to verify that I hadn't been summoned to the Ministry so I knew that the game was afoot. I merely announced to the staff that I was leaving for London and then hid out for a few hours."

"Sir, am I wrong in thinking that all of this isn't to protect the stone but to lure Voldemort or his henchmen in?" Harry asked. "I mean, if protecting the stone was what you wanted to do, it would have been easier just to keep it on your person and hire some bodyguards. After all you are the most powerful wizard in the world according to everybody."

"Clever boy," Dumbledore laughed but quickly stopped at when Professor Snape, who was peering into the stone's chamber through a small opening in the wall, frantically waved his hand. Dumbledore took Snape's place at the spy hole as McGonagall doused the lights. Everyone stood taking care to make no noise.

Dumbledore waited a few minutes before he stepped back. He drew a large circle with his wand and the wall disappeared. The staff rushed into the room and quickly spread out in an extended crescent blocking Professor Quirrell from the doorway from which he had entered the chamber. Hagrid stepped just inside of the chamber and stretched to his full height. He stood before the exit like Gibraltar. Hermione and Harry peered into the chamber from behind him.

"Ah, Headmaster," Professor Quirrell began. "It isn't as it appears."

"It appears that you forgot your stutter, Quirrell," Snape snarled. "I tried to warn you not to fall into the clutches of the Dark Lord."

"It seems that I had a traitor of my own for all these years," said a voice from within Quirrell's turban.

"Your reign of terror is over with, Voldemort," Dumbledore said in a voice like granite. "Within these walls you choose to walk in darkness all those many years ago; perhaps it only proper that you die here."

An unearthly wail tore from Quirrell's throat but was quickly silenced as his head exploded. His lifeless body toppled limply to the ground. Like a wraith, Voldemort departed from the used up husk of his host scattering the bloody tattered remnants of the destroyed turban as he rose and expanded. Scarlet eyes burned in a waxen face that floated in cloud of gray mist.

"You were never my equal, Dumbledore," Voldemort said gravelly. "Even with this pitiful array of talent and that overgrown oaf, I tower above you. You never drew breath on the day you could defeat me."

Harry stepped around Hagrid and eluded the gamekeeper's desperate grab for him. He stopped just below the phantasm. "I, on the other hand, have drawn breath on such a day."

"Fool!" Voldemort snarled. "It is my destiny to kill you as I did your parents."

Harry stretched his arms out at shoulder level, his palms open and facing outward. "Here, I am," he said serenely.

"Harry, NO!" Dumbledore shouted.

With a loud howl of triumph, Voldemort dove into Harry's chest. As the Dark Lord plunged into him, Harry fell to his knees and crossed his arms over his chest, each hand on the opposite shoulder. Hermione screamed and everyone rushed forward only to be repulsed by an invisible barrier.

They could only watch helplessly as large lumps appeared and disappeared on Harry's body. His black hair turned completely white before their eyes yet no sound passed Harry's lips. He began to convulse, every muscle jerked. He leaped to his feet as if he were a marionette in the hands of an incompetent puppeteer. Harry's eyes burned with a crimson light as he lurched drunkenly forward.

He stopped moving when his eyes fell on Hermione. Tears were pouring down her faces as her hands were pressed against the barrier. For the longest moment, he stared at her than, wordless, Harry collapsed at her feet; blood flowing from his nose and mouth.

Hermione dropped to her knees and tenderly cradled his head. Unmindful of the blood that was staining her clothes; she lovingly pushed the hair from his face. His forehead was smooth. The jagged scar that had defined him as _the Boy Who Lived_ was no longer there. It was as if it never had been.

Harry's eyes flicked opened. He saw Hermione's face above him. He tried to wipe the tears from her cheek but managed only the briefest of touches.

"He's gone," Harry whispered hoarsely as he attempted to smile. Then he closed his eyes.


	11. chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **This is a work of fan fiction using the characters created by J. K. Rowling. The rights to the characters remain in the hands of Miss Rowling and her publishers, Bloomsbury Books and Scholastic Press.

The Janus Order

Chapter 11

When Madame Pomfrey entered the ward, she found Harry not in his bed but sitting on a wooden chair by the window. He had it angled to where he could watch the rising sun whose first rays were only now peeking over the mountains. She walked over to him. Harry slowly turned his head to her as she approached.

"Good morning," he said quietly.

"How do you feel?" Madame Pomfrey asked as she sat a potion on the window sill.

Harry looked confused. "I'm not sure. Everything is strange at the moment."

The nurse knelt beside him. She felt his forehead, checked his pulse, and examined his eyes. She nodded her satisfaction with the quick examination.

"Let's see if we can't break the question down into manageable parts, shall we?" Madame Pomfrey said as she stood. "How do you feel physically?"

Harry closed his eyes as if he turned them inward and was assessing each part of his body, system by system.

"Somewhat stiff and more then a little sore but no sharp or major pains anywhere," he finally answered as he reopened his eyes.

"That's good but I'll do a more complete physical later this morning if you are up to it," Madame Pomfrey replied. "How are you otherwise?"

Harry looked back at the rising sun. "The prophecy said that neither Voldemort nor I could truly live while the other remained alive. I truly wished that there had been a third way. I didn't want to die and I didn't want to kill him."

The nurse placed a gentle hand on the eleven year old boy's shoulder. "Voldemort was like a rabid weasel who would have continued to bring death and sorrow to the world. Some things in life just have to be done. I'm sorry that the task fell to a boy but it may have been that you were the only one capable of ridding the world of his terror."

"I was," Harry said simply.

Madame Pomfrey retrieved the potion. "Drink this down, please."

Harry obeyed without complaint although the potion was bitter.

"Would you like a cheering charm?" She asked.

Harry gave her a small smile. "I'm sad but not depressed or thinking about suicide. I would like breakfast if I am allowed to eat."

"That's a good sign," Madame Pomfrey said happily. "I'll have one sent up soon."

"Ma'am, what day is this?" he asked as the nurse turned to leave.

"It's the eighth of June, dear," she answered. "You've been in that bed for four days."

Harry's only comment was to raise an eyebrow.

Professors McGonagall and Snape and a pudgy man clutching a lime green bowler hat accompanied Dumbledore into the hospital wing. They found Hermione sitting on Harry's bed feeding him the last of his lunch.

"Good Afternoon, Professors," Hermione gushed as she removed the tray to a nearby table

"Poppy led me to believe that you were feeling fairly well today," Dumbledore said frowning.

"I'm fine, sir," Harry reassured him. "It's just that if I was gonna eat, I had to let her hand feed me."

The headmaster chuckled knowingly "Harry, let me introduce you to Cornelius Fudge, the British Minister for Magic."

"How do you do, young man," Mister Fudge asked as he shook Harry's hand. "If what Dumbledore says is true, then we are again in your debt."

"If?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Well, ah, you see," Mister Fudge mumbled.

"Minister, let me introduce Hermione Granger," Dumbledore said. "She is the brightest witch in the first form and a witness to the events of the fourth."

Hermione nodded curtly to the Minister but remained quiet.

Dumbledore held up a small blue vial. "Harry, this contains veritaserm. It is the most powerful truth serum ever concocted. I am very sorry but I must ask you to drink this and answer some questions for us."

"What?" Hermione exploded but Harry quickly reached a calming hand out to her.

"I understand, sir," Harry said. "You need to be certain."

"Certain of what?" Hermione asked.

"Certain that I am still Harry and not Voldemort," Harry answered. "It's a real concern that they have to put to pasture."

Harry took the offered vial and drank down the entire bottle in a single gulp.

"Potter, you only needed a sip of the veritaserum," Professor Snape said. "Now I have to make another solution."

"I'm sorry, Professor Snape," Harry replied. "An overdose isn't dangerous, is it?"

"No but you'll be answering all questions truthfully for the next three days," the potions master said.

"I always try to tell the truth," Harry said.

Snape grinned wickedly. "Lad, there is a vast difference between telling the truth and answering truthfully."

"How long before it takes effect?" Hermione asked with a gleam in her eye

"He's probably under its influence by now," Snape replied.

"Harry, do you truly love me?" She asked impishly.

"I truly love you, Hermione," Harry said looking her straight in the eye. "I'm gonna marry you someday."

Hermione laughed and kissed Harry on the tip of his nose. "He's all yours, Headmaster."

"Apparently not," Dumbledore said archly. He then cleared his throat. "Are you Lord Voldemort at one time known as Tom Riddle?"

"No, I'm Harry James Potter," Harry answered directly. "Lord Voldemort died when I took his knowledge, power, and life force from him. Since he no longer had a body or a soul, there was nothing left of him."

"You have Voldemort's knowledge and power now?" Dumbledore asked worriedly.

Harry took a deep breath and slowly exhaled it. "Yes," he said. "But what allowed me to defeat the Dark Lord will be the same thing that will prevent me from becoming the next Dark Lord."

"What is that, young Mr. Potter?" Minister Fudge asked.

"Love, sir."

"Love," the Minister said incredulously.

"Love, sir," Harry replied again. "When Lord Voldemort charged into me, he found that I wasn't there to fight him but to forgive him. My capacity to forgive was greater then his ability to hate. He was trapped by love and could not escape. He poured his darkness into me until there was nothing left of him and then I let the darkness go because I had no use for it."

Fudge silently appealed to Dumbledore for an explanation. The old man stroked his long white beard and smiled.

"I would not have ever thought about victory through surrender, conquest by love," he said. "Harry, you are a far better man now at eleven then I have managed to become in the long, long decades of my life. Cornelius, you can make your public announcement that Lord Voldemort is truly and forever gone from us."

"There won't be a sober witch or wizard in Britain by sundown," McGonagall said somewhat disapprovingly.

"Damned if I'm not going to the _Three Broomsticks _and hoist a couple myself," Professor Snape cried out happily. "I can finally have a peaceful life!"

"Well, young man," Cornelius Fudge said buoyantly. "I think that the _Order of Merlin, First Class_ is too little of an award but that's the highest we have. Oh, I have got to get back to London and fast."

He rushed from the room bursting with anticipation of telling the world of the incredible news that the dark cloud that they had lived under for so long was over. Professor Snape gave Harry's shoulder a quick squeeze then followed the Minister out of the infirmary.

"Madame Pomfrey said that I had to stay here until one more examination was done," Harry said. "Was this that examination?"

"Yes, Harry, it was," Dumbledore said. "Again, I'm sorry that it had to be done."

"I guess many things have to be done that we rather not do," Harry said. "Hermione, you brought some clothes for me to wear?"

Hermione reached under the bed and retrieved Harry's book bag and a pair of boots. "Wand, Trousers and what not are in the bag and there is this little charm I need to teach you. Your boots were more then a bit fragrant."

"Thanks," Harry said. He took the clothes from her and vanished into the lavatory.

Professor McGonagall watched until the door was shut. "You know where my apartment is, Hermione?"

"Yes, Professor. Why?"

"Just in case you feel the need to chat," she said enigmatically. She left without another word. Dumbledore was close behind her.

Harry and Hermione walked slowly along the banks of the lake. The rays of the warm sun glistened like tiny jewels on the tips of the waves. The grounds were grounded with students since there were no classes but Harry found a secluded spot. He wanted privacy for Hermione when he told her what he must.

"Another eight wicker sofas," Hermione teased as Harry retrieved his wand from his back pocket.

"I was thinking of a marble bench, actually," Harry replied.

Unlike his last effort, Harry created only the one bench that he was trying for. It was of white marble with the faintest hint of rose colouring to it. It had a slight curve which allowed two people to sit side by side yet easily look into one another's eyes.

"Okay, Harry say what has been bothering you since we left the hospital wing," Hermione said as they sat down.

Looking sadder then Hermione had ever seen him; Harry took hold of her hands. "In a few days when I leave here I won't be back."

Hermione was bewildered. A dozen different questions rushed to her tongue. She asked the simplest one. "Why?"

"I have the knowledge and ability of a wizard who had been studying magic for over fifty years," Harry explained. "I now know the entire curriculum of Hogwarts and far, far more. Much of it useless to me since its only purpose is evil but most of it is adaptable to the sort of life I wish to lead."

"You said that you loved me," Hermione wailed.

"I do," Harry replied. "Hermione, you chased me down through multiple dimensions. Can a few years and a mere ocean keep us apart?"

Hermione tried to articulate what she wanted to say. She failed. Instead she fell into his arms and cried. Harry hugged her and cried with her.

The next time he cried was when he was nineteen and was slipping a simple silver band on Hermione's finger with their families, friends, and the mountains of Alberta as witnesses.


End file.
